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It was your fault. You could've put a stop to this, but you didn't. Your curiosity had unfortunately won out tonight.
And now you had to suffer for it.
What exactly happened? Let's backtrack.
It was Friday night. The three of you were hanging around doing absolutely nothing and talking about absolutely nothing. And considering that it was a Friday night, you had gotten drinks. Not too much, just a few beers and shots of liquor among other things.
You didn't know how exactly it started. You had left for no more than two minutes to go get more drinks and had come back to a very lively conversation between the Broken and the Knocker.
"I could out-drink you any day. You're a lightweight." The Knocker smirked down at his brother, a finger pointed accusingly at him.
"I am not. You always say this... I just take my time with my drinks. That's all." The Broken whined, that persistent frown only deepening with the Knocker's words. His eyes were downcast. He was never good at sticking up for himself, no matter how hard you had tried to teach him.
"Really, now? Why don't you prove it? I bet you you can't drink more than me." He set down his beer with a loud clunk, the small amount of alcohol left sloshed around inside the can.
"I'm not doing that because then we'd both be too drunk to know the winner."
The Knocker scoffed, not at all discouraged with that answer. After all, he had a plan. "You're already dropping out, and you haven't even heard what the prize is yet. How very typical of you, Broken."
"Prize..?" Now that had caught his attention, just as the Knocker had planned. Rarely anything made the Broken perk up, but just maybe this prize would be worth something to him.
"That's right. Whoever drinks the most gets..." The Knocker trailed off as he looked around the room, clearly looking for a viable reward that'd best motivate his brother to partake in this dumb contest. Of course, that is when you just so happened to walk in with more drinks. The timing was immaculate. When his eyes landed on you, he knew he had found the perfect solution.
"Them. Whoever wins gets them." He suggested with a sly grin shot in your direction.
You bristled, clearly not expecting to be brought into this spat between them. "Uhm, excuse me, but don't I get a say in this?"
"Come on, just play along for once." The Knocker nudged you with his elbow as he talked through his teeth, urging you to just agree already.
Now, at this point, you could've shut down this whole contest and refused to act as some sort of reward for the winner. You were a person, not an object after all!
But you didn't.
Curiosity kept you from doing such a smart and rational thing. You wanted to see just how intoxicated they could get. It wasn't like they were exactly human. Maybe alcohol affected them differently. It was the hidden researcher in you. What else could you say?
(Deep down, you also wanted to know just how far they'd go for you and perhaps even feed your ego a bit while you were at it, but you'd never dare to say that out loud.)
Not wanting to appear too eager though, you glared at him for a few seconds before begrudgingly agreeing.
The Broken had been quietly observing as his brother and you spoke, his eyes jumping back and forth between the two of you. However, when you finally agreed, his miserable expression lightened somewhat.
"Deal. I'll participate in this drinking contest." His voice was quiet but shockingly steady as he spoke. It seemed like having you as a prize was motivation enough to get him to participate in his brother's tomfoolery.
The Knocker's smile widened. To him, this was an easy win. The Broken would be out after the first few shots, leaving him to claim you as his trophy.
The Broken was much less confident in his abilities, but he at least wanted to put up a good fight against his cocky brother.
As you slid them both their first few glasses, a small voice in the back of your head warned you against this, screaming that this was a terrible idea.
Your curiosity silenced that voice, despite how helpful it might have been and how much trouble it could have saved you.
Shot after shot they downed, not stopping for even a second. You hadn't even realized the Broken had it in him! As for the Knocker? You weren't exactly surprised.
They were neck and neck, nine for nine. It was actually impressive how quickly they had drunk all that alcohol and subsequently drained your reserves. You'd have to go out and buy more after this, thanks to their shenanigans.
And that wasn't even mentioning how drunk they actually were. Both of them were equally pale, a pasty white that even rivaled freshly fallen snow, but now, thanks to the almost magical effects of fermented sugars, their cheeks had taken on a rosy red hue.
The Broken was sweating buckets by this point, barely even able to keep his head up. He was drooling, a dribble of alcohol running down his chin from the corner of his mouth.
The Knocker was not much better. His speech was slurred nearly to the point of incomprehension. Not to mention how much he was swaying in his seat, his coordination obviously heavily affected.
It wasn't a pretty sight.
It was at this point that you realized you may have fucked up. They were much more human-like than you realized. Alcohol most definitely did affect them.
"Okayyy, I think I'm going to call this a tie..." You slowly slid the half-empty glasses of liquor away from them. They needed to be cut off. You weren't sure if these two could die of alcohol poisoning, but for once, you didn't want to find out.
"Awww come onnn... I can keep goin'." The Knocker reached for his glass only to fall short, his arm falling back down on the table with a thunk.
The Broken jumped slightly at the sudden noise, like he had become more paranoid thanks to the effects of alcohol.
"Did I win..?" The Broken inquired quietly, his voice a small squeak.
"No. You both tied." You began to clear away the numerous empty cans and bottles, a displeased look painting your face. Boy, did they reek of alcohol.
"Rematch?" The Broken asked with a frown, his lower lip quivering.
"No." You immediately shut down that idea before it could take root.
The Broken slumped forward, his forehead hitting the table with a thump that shook the rest of the bar and rattled the numerous empty glasses.
"Come on. You can't stay here. You've both got to sleep this off." You grabbed the Knocker's arm and attempted to yank him out of his seat. However, you quickly learned that that was a mistake, for though you were successful in getting him out of his seat, he proceeded to flop onto the ground, his body refusing to take on any weight, and your arms unable to hold him up.
He hit the ground with a groan, his eyes slanted up to you. He did not look happy. "Why'd you do that?"
"It's not my fault! You made no effort to hold yourself up!" You snapped at him, already feeling your patience thin. Agreeing to this drinking contest between them was so not your brightest moment.
You looked over to the Broken, hoping that maybe he'd be easier to rouse to action. Unfortunately, he seemed to be passed out on the bar, his cheek smooshed against the cool stone surface.
You ran a hand down your face, cursing yourself internally.
You shook the Broken's shoulder and ignored whatever bullshit the Knocker was spewing beneath you. You'd deal with that hot mess later.
The Broken started with a jolt at your touch. "Uh... I'm awake..."
Not at all feeling sympathetic for his situation, you hooked your arm around his and started tugging.
"Work with me here..." You said through gritted teeth as you struggled to get him on his feet again.
"Where we goin'?" The Broken braced himself on the bar and finally got himself to stand, although really only thanks to him leaning on you.
"My room." You took an unsteady step towards the hall leading to your bedroom. He followed, although not before nearly dragging you to the ground. You had to loop your arm around his shoulders in order to stay upright.
His dull eyes lit up at your answer. "I won?"
You groaned with exertion as you used all the strength in your body to keep him from falling over. You were making your way towards the bedroom, and though progress was slow, it was still progress.
"You did not win... However... You get to sleep this off... In my room." Talking was not easy. He was lucky you were kind and didn't want to just let him lie on the floor.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you got him to your bed where you unceremoniously dropped him. He bounced on the springy bed but lay still after, unable to do much else but gaze at the ceiling.
One done, one more to go.
All you really wanted to do was rest after all that. But you couldn't. You knew the Knocker was in the other room, presumably still lying on the floor where you had left him.
You walked back in and... Yep. There he was. He glared at you when you stood over him. "You left me. Bitch."
"Hello to you too." You grumbled. So he was not a fun drunk. Just fantastic.
"You left me." He repeated once more, like he thought you were hard of hearing or something.
"We've established that, yes." You crouched down to his level. His hand attempted to grab at you, but you swatted it away. Intoxication really did make him weaker. Normally, that kind of behavior from you would send him chasing after you with his axe. But not tonight. He just huffed in annoyance.
"Let's get you to bed, shall we?" You didn't feel like picking him up off the ground. You had a better idea. An idea that he was sure to dislike. But it worked much better for you.
You leaned down, picked up his legs, and promptly began to drag him across your wooden floors back to your room.
He really was not a fan. The whole way to your room, he protested quite passionately. It was almost impressive if not for the fact that he never struggled despite being fully capable of putting up even a bit of a fight against you. He argued, yet did not punch, kick, or flail about.
Was it intoxication that made him like this? Or perhaps something else? You couldn't say.
"I hate you." He grumbled as you finally came to a stop once you were both inside your bedroom. You stretched your arms over your head, taking your time before acknowledging him.
"Yeah, yeah. You're not easy to drag, you know? My back is already sore, and I only had to drag you a few blocks."
"Then don't drag me." You rolled your eyes at his comment.
"Would you rather I had just left you out there, too drunk to get up?"
"I am NOT drunk..."
You rolled your eyes at his petulant pouting and blatant lie. Why were you even talking with him in the first place? He was already annoying enough without such a large amount of alcohol in his system. But now? He was nearly impossible to get along with.
"Just sleep this off like your brother is."
"Mm...'m not asleep.." You heard a muffled voice from your bed. The Broken was face down on your pillow, his body stick-straight. Yet, somehow, he was still up. Wow. That was the second time this night he did that. You were impressed.
You sighed, your anger fading a little at his words. "Just go to sleep, both of you."
"I'm still on the floor." The Knocker grumbled, his uncanny eyes glued to yours.
And just let that you felt your irritability rear its ugly head.
"Too bad. Either get up or lie there for the night because I will not be picking you up." And with that, you left your room, unable to deal with any more of their drunken behavior. Besides, you had some cleaning to do thanks to them and even some self-reflection because just why did you let them drink so much?
The drinking contest was not a good idea.
They were annoying drunks. Not funny. At least not for you. Maybe after tonight, you could all laugh together about this—if they remembered this night at all—but at the current moment, it was completely unfunny.
You returned to your room about ten minutes later just to find the Knocker in your bed next to his brother, although it did look like he had tried to push him off the bed based on the fact that the Broken was on the very edge of the mattress.
You had not expected the Knocker to actually get up. Perhaps you had underestimated him.
Oh, well. It didn't matter. You were just going to craft another bed and sleep there for the night. This was way above your pay grade, anyhow.
The next morning was no better than the night before.
The Broken spent his day whining endlessly about the pounding inside his head, any loud noise or bright light only causing him to worsen.
His brother was just as bad, if not worse.
The Knocker insulted the sun and the torches in your base, and the sound of your front door opening and shutting. Everything was an annoyance for him, and he was just about the most irritable and grumpy person (thing?? entity??) you had ever had the displeasure of dealing with.
Never again would you willingly give either of them alcohol—at least while they were at your place—ever again.
Moral of the story? Don't let curiosity win out over rationality, especially when alcohol is involved.